


21

by zeldasayre



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, I don't know what to tag this, Larry Stylinson Is Real, M/M, One Shot, except its during a break so that doesn't really... come in to the story at all..., gas station shenanigans, i think, ok im done now, this is so random my birthday just passed and I was thinking about IDs and idk man now there's this, we'll see, whatever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-18
Updated: 2015-12-18
Packaged: 2018-05-07 08:09:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5449481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zeldasayre/pseuds/zeldasayre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis works the night shift at the local Stop & Shop. Harry comes in to buy alcohol, newly a legal drinker. Gayness ensues. (Is that how I end all summaries now? Nice.)</p><p>(takes place in America, obviously, given the drinking age.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	21

**Author's Note:**

> This is probably a one-shot but idk I could continue it if anyone wants that? Let me know if you want that. :)

I was still pretending to be reading, but out of the corner of my eye, I watched him as he rounded the aisles, picking up package after package of candy, chips, Twinkies, and put every one of them back on their hooks after a moment of consideration. His friends had gone straight for the alcohol and were loudly discussing what to buy. But he stayed by the candy, chewing on his bottom lip, and I wondered if he lived around here. I thought he must not. I’d have seen him before, and I would’ve remembered him.

He was tall and thin, limbs long and sharp like pipe cleaners, covered in tattoos and weirdly muscular. His hair was long, brushing his shoulders, and he wore a soft-looking button down that he’d seemed to forget to actually… button down. His whole upper chest was revealed, and I thought he must be cold, what with the AC blasting in here on high to battle the hot night air outside.

He glanced over in the direction of the register and I hurriedly shot my gaze down to my book. I didn’t look up again until he was in front of me, two cases of Blue Moon set on the counter before me. His friends had taken his place in the candy aisle, and the blonde one was bent over in hysterical laughter now while the other one, who looked like the kind of guy whose dad called him ‘son’, attempted to juggle three packs of Swedish Fish.

I avoided the beautiful guy’s eyes as he handed me his debit card. “ID?” I said, and it came out humiliatingly rough. I cleared my throat and looked up at last. His eyes were green. Like, aurora borealis green. I looked down again and swallowed.

His mouth quirked up a bit as he handed me his ID. I took it and glanced at him, then the photo, and finally his date of birth.

“Oh,” I said.

He beamed.

“Um… happy birthday,” I said.

He laughed, like this was the funniest, greatest moment of his life, and, running a hand through his long hair with these horribly enormous hands, these huge rings on his fingers and the movement of his hand the most horrifyingly sexy thing I’d ever witnessed, he said, “Thanks, man.”

I just stared at him for a moment. I forgot about his debit card. Just as I remembered, and was about to swipe it through, he said, “I’m Harry.”

“Yea,” I said immediately, indicating his ID which, also, was still in my hand, “I know.”

He grinned. “What’s your name?” he asked.

“Louis,” I said, and why was I responding so fast? It was past midnight, and I’d been working for hours, you’d think I might be a little tired, at least not so freaking prompt.

“Hi, Louis,” he said.

“Hi,” I said, and then, finally, I swiped his card, handed him his ID, and bagged his drinks. He smiled at me, didn’t move away, and I felt my heart thudding in my chest and was struck with a sudden impulse to reach out across the counter, grab him, and find out what those lips tasted like.

His friends joined us, then, dropping bags and bags of every kind of snack on the counter. The blonde one smiled wide at me. “Hiya,” he said, in an accent I couldn’t pinpoint, “Late shift, eh? Must be tough, mate.” Irish. It was Irish.

I shrugged, “Not too bad.”

Harry rested his elbow on the counter and leaned forward, and I had to consciously stop myself from gasping. I could smell his hair. It was intoxicating. I couldn’t imagine he’d feel any drunker, if he downed every one of those beers, than I did right then. “What time’s your shift go ’til?” he asked.

“Uh,” I managed, after an embarrassingly long pause during which I tried to remember how to speak, “Three.”

“AM?” the manly one asked, sounding shocked.

I rose an eyebrow and nodded.

Harry laughed and rolled his eyes, turning his head to meet his friend’s eyes, “What do you think, Liam? PM?”

Liam shrugged, abashed. Harry grinned and pinched his cheek affectionately.

I checked them out, and the blonde one waved, friendly, as he and Liam grabbed the bags and headed out into the dark. Harry hung back and pulled his bottom lip into his mouth, and I found myself licking my own lips as he worried it between his teeth.

“Three, right?” he said.

I met his eyes. I nodded.

He tipped his head to the side and nodded. “Alright,” he said. He grinned. “I’ll come back for you, pretty.”

I gaped at him.

“I’m twenty-one now,” he said, “Time for taking risks, right? Seeing what I want and taking it?”

I stared at him, unmoving, for a moment, and then nodded.

He grinned and walked out, the door ringing behind him. I watched through the door as he splayed out his arms, threw back his head, and yelled out, muffled through the glass, “TWENTY-ONE!”

The other boys whooped loudly and Harry glanced back at me once, grinning, before they left.


End file.
